Chapter XIV: Part 14

Achmet Beg, notwithstanding his advanced age, had not been able to restrain his ardour; but with somewhat of the fiery valour of his brother the Hadji, when the shouts of the combatants arose, had quitted his post outside, and, scaling the ramparts, with many of his followers, joined in the fray. Overcome with fatigue he stood like the statue of an aged Mars, leaning on his sword reeking with the blood of his foes, and covered with the dust and smoke of the combat.

Alp Beg now returned from the pursuit of the enemy, whom he had almost cut to pieces before the remnant succeeded in escaping to the boats of the brig. Among the latter, was probably the Count Erintoff; as when Ivan and Thaddeus went in search of his corpse, it was no where to be found. The chieftains then assembled in the centre of the fort; when our hero led forth his rescued friend, who was received with warm and sincere congratulations by his gallant liberators. Few words passed between them; for there was still much to be done, and all were anxious to return to give assurance to their friends of their success.

By Ivan's side stood young Conrin, amid the fierce and bearded warriors; one bright and glowing spot alone remained on his otherwise pale cheek, and his eyes burned with the same unearthly lustre which they had shewn after the former combat. His lip at times quivered, and his arm still trembled with the exertion he had undergone, as his hand grasped a weapon marked with many a red stain. Alas! that one so young, and seemingly of so gentle a nature, should engage in scenes of bloodshed like this! The boy gazed up in his master's face with a look expressive of such satisfaction and joy, that he had escaped the dangers of the attack, that Ivan relented from the displeasure he had felt at the youth's rashness, and, placing his hand on his shoulder, said:

"It was for your safety, my brave, but rash, Conrin, that I forbade you to accompany me on this expedition; and for my own sake also. For my grief would have been, indeed, great, and I should never have ceased blaming myself, had you fallen, or received any injury. Therefore, if you love me, venture not again into such danger."

The boy burst into tears. "It would be my greatest joy to die at your feet, if I thought you loved me as I would be loved!" exclaimed he passionately. "And I am amply rewarded for all the horrors of this scene, now that the moment has arrived in which I know that you are safe."

"Boy, you will wear that gallant young spirit out, if you thus exert it before its time. For my sake, if not for your own, play me not thus false again," said Ivan. "And, now as a truant, I must return you to your mistress."

"Am I then forgiven, Sir?" asked the boy.

"Yes, Conrin, yes, you are forgiven; and gladly, as you have not suffered. But see, the chiefs are moving on, and I must join them."

The chiefs had been holding a consultation, in which it was agreed to destroy the fort completely. Achmet Beg volunteering to remain with a party of his followers, to superintend its entire demolition. The rest quitted the fort, the drawbridge being lowered for their exit. They were received with shouts of congratulation by the party outside the walls, each man laden with the arms and other booty which they had found in the fort, and carefully guarding the few prisoners they had taken.

A more mournful procession followed, conveying on quickly-formed biers, the bodies of their slain comrades, the bearers changing, at intervals, the triumphant songs of victory into cries of lamentation for their early fate. The victorious little army first repaired to the secluded vale where they had left their horses, their rifles, their cloaks, and provisions, and where the last sad obsequies were to be performed to the slain. But it was a consolation to all the true believers in Mahomet, that, falling in defence of their country, their souls would find a quick passage to Paradise. Short, consequently, was the burial service of the brave warriors, though the grief of the survivors was not the less for the friends who had fallen.

The chieftains, therefore, leaving a party to commit the bodies to their last resting-place in that quiet spot, hastened back to defend the passes of Ghelendjik, lest the garrison, taking advantage of the absence of many of the inhabitants, should attempt to ravage the country.

Volume 2, Chapter XVII.

Scarce a whole day had passed since the band of gallant warriors had left the neighbourhood of Ghelendjik, when they returned crowned with victory. One of the detested forts of the foe was levelled to the ground, and thus one of the first links of the chain, the fana Moscov were striving to throw around the land was burst asunder at a single blow. This showed them what they might still do; it raised their courage; it inflamed their ardour. Again and again they vowed never to yield while an arm remained to strike.

The noble Hadji was in high spirits at the success of this the first enterprise he had engaged in since his return to his native land; nor the less so at the gallantry which his son had displayed. He careered along, at the head of the party, gay as the most youthful warrior among them. The heroic Arslan Gherrei, on his magnificent black charger, his plume towering above the others, rode sedately near him, his features, except when excited amid the combat, ever wearing the same grave stern expression.

In each of the small secluded hamlets through which they passed, the women came forth to welcome them, throwing flowers in their path, and singing triumphant hymns of praise for their victory. Some made eager inquiries for husbands, and fathers, or brothers; and sad was the wail raised in lieu of songs of triumph, when the death of any loved one was announced to them.

By the side of our hero rode his friend Thaddeus, for whom he had procured a horse, and who now related the events which had lately occurred to him, and the attempted revenge of the Count Erintoff.

"You are now then, my dear Thaddeus, surely absolved from all allegiance to the Emperor?" said Ivan. "And you may join, without scruple of conscience, the only cause for which a man is justified in fighting, when not for the protection of his own country, the defence of a gallant people's dearest liberties, their homes, their families, against the power of tyrants who would enslave them."

"True, my friend," answered Thaddeus, "such I now feel is a righteous cause, sanctified by Heaven; such the true cause in which the pure spirit of chivalry delights to engage; far different from the hireling service which would place a tyrant or an usurper on the throne, and aid him in oppressing a people whom it is his office to govern."

"I am rejoiced to hear you speak sentiments so like my own," exclaimed Ivan, "and of which you, of all men, have just reason to feel the truth."

"Since we parted, I have thought much on the subject, even though death was hanging over me," returned the young Pole. "One of the causes, which then made me refuse to join your party, has been removed. My father is no more. The thraldom under which his noble spirit groaned, and grief for his country's overthrow, have at length brought his life to a close."

"Then, surely," said Ivan, "you can no longer, with reason, consider yourself bound to Russia."

"I do not; I consider myself justly absolved from my oath of service to the Emperor," answered Thaddeus. "But can you blame me, when I hesitate to turn my sword against my former brothers in arms, many bound to me by the ties of friendship?"

"That you need never do," answered Ivan; "and henceforth, I shall hail you as my brother in arms; for Circassia has foes enough without numbering the few you can claim as friends. The fierce and daring Cossacks shall be your opponents, and along the banks of the Kouban, they will afford you abundance of opportunities of gaining credit and renown among us."

"Press me not further on the subject, my friend," returned the Pole. "I have scarcely yet learned to consider myself as numbered among the living, so rapid and stunning has been my delivery from death. I have much to give me serious reflection."

The two friends relapsed into silence for some time; for Ivan's thoughts were also deeply occupied with conjectures, vague, uncertain, yet full of hope, as to who was the brave chieftain, whose name he had heard, and whose noble bearing, heroic valour, stern and melancholy, yet courteous deportment had inspired him with feelings of love and admiration, such as his heart was unaccustomed to accord to others; but he could not yet bring himself to address him.

As the party approached the beautiful village they had left the previous day, a group of bright and graceful forms was seen between the trees, waving garlands of flowers; their sweet voices singing songs of welcome and congratulation to the victorious warriors. The chiefs, throwing their reins to the squires, leaped from their steeds, as they reached the woodland glade, already mentioned as the romantic hall of assembly for the neighbourhood.

The maidens advanced to meet the warriors, each anxious to welcome the most beloved of their gallant defenders; and still more lovely than all, came Ina, rushing with joy into the arms of her father. That one affectionate embrace of his child, was a full recompense to the heart of the noble hero, for all the risks and dangers of war. The wife and daughters of the chief of the hamlet came forward also to welcome him and his sons; and many a bashful maiden betrayed her hitherto concealed love for some gallant youth, in her joy at his safe return from battle.

It was a highly interesting scene. Diana-like forms of women, clothed in coloured and richly ornamented robes, with long white veils floating gracefully from their heads; the shining and embossed armour, jewelled weapons, and tall plumes of the noble chiefs; the groups of high-mettled steeds, and bands of retainers, assembled on the verdant lawn, surrounded by the bright foliage of lofty trees and canopied by the blue vault of heaven; formed a picture, such as Titian or Rubens might have loved to paint. It reminded one of the romantic days of chivalry, now long since faded from all other lands but that of the heroic Atteghei.

Near Ivan stood Thaddeus, enraptured by the beautiful and noble scene; but, more than all, by the loveliness of Ina, as his glance first fell on her, clinging to her father's arm. His very soul became entranced as he gazed, nor could he withdraw his admiring eyes; never had he seen a being more lovely, more graceful. It was to him, as if, after arriving from the dark regions of death, he had entered a glorious paradise.

Scarcely were the first greetings over, when the Hadji advanced towards Ivan, and taking his hand, led him forward into the midst of the assembled chiefs, exclaiming, "To you, my noble friend Arslan Gherrei, and to you, chieftains all, I speak. I have this day a pleasing duty to perform. Here stands one whom I am proud to call my friend; with me he came to these, our native shores; but to this moment, I know not his name. He was under an oath, and none could disapprove it, not to tell his name or lineage, until he had gained for himself a warlike and noble title, and proved himself worthy to belong to the pure race of the Atteghei. I call on you all, who have been spectators of his deeds of arms; who have seen his heroic bravery, when combating against the foes of our country; to bear witness, that he is worthy to be called one of the noblest of the children of the Atteghei; I call on you all, to declare, if you will welcome him as a brother, the bravest of the brave among us?"

"We do! we do!" was shouted from all sides; "he is a true son of the Atteghei. We welcome him as a gallant brother in arms."

Uttering similar expressions, each chieftain advanced to grasp his hand, in token of approval. The heart of our hero beat quickly, as the blood tumultuously rushed through his veins, with a glow of noble pride, at the applause of his countrymen; but more than all, at the hope that the consummation of his most anxious wishes was about to draw near.

"I knew, my friends, that you could have but one opinion," said the Hadji. "But to you, Arslan Gherrei, I more particularly speak, for twice have you been witness of the bravery of the stranger warrior; twice has he rescued from peril, that life so prized by our country."

"Truly do I know how brave and noble he is," answered the chieftain advancing; "and gladly do I hail him as a son of the Atteghei."

"Young warrior, you hear what has been spoken of you by some of the most gallant chiefs of Circassia. What more would you have to absolve you from your oath?" exclaimed the Hadji with animation.

"I am overwhelmed with the proud feelings of my heart," cried our hero. "No greater praise can I ever hope to gain. I will keep my secret no longer. The name I bore at my birth was Selem Gherrei!"

"What! speak that name again," cried Arslan Gherrei, springing forward. Seizing his hand he held it in his grasp, while he gazed earnestly into his face.

"Noble youth, whence come you? can a blessed spirit rise from the dead? Speak, ere my heart burst with impatience; say who gave you that name?"

"My mother," answered our hero. "When a child, I was carried away with her by a Russian commander; she continued to watch over my youth till death tore her from me."

"It is enough; you are--you are my son, my long mourned son. I need no more to convince me," cried the chieftain, clasping the youth in his arms, while manly tears of joy burst from the long dried up fountains of his eagle eye.

"Am I! am I, noble chief, your son?" cried the youth, no less overcome, and falling on his knees while returning his new-found father's embrace. "Has heaven, indeed, granted me so proud a blessing? See, I have borne this amulet from childhood, and have ever religiously guarded it. This may prove my birth."

"I need no mark to convince me that you are my son. Nature speaks loudly for you, though well do I remember that amulet," cried the chieftain. "You are, indeed, my son, and Allah be praised for his bounty. I felt it when first I saw you, like a guardian angel, fighting by my side, and rescuing me from death; I felt it when first I heard the rich manly tones of your voice inciting your followers to the fight. Yes, my heart beat with joy that another warrior should be added to the cause of the Atteghei; and now how proud and grateful I am, let Heaven witness. See, chiefs, I here present to you my son. Great Heaven has granted me the only boon I craved," he added, lifting up his son. "After the witness you have borne of his bravery you all must know how proud I am of him."

"Have I not a sister, too, my father? Let her also participate in our joy," cried his son, hastening to embrace Ina, who, trembling with agitation, had advanced to the spot. "My sister, my sweet sister!"

"Oh, my brother! Allah be praised that I may pronounce that dear name. Now can my father's heart rejoice that he has found his long-wished-for son. Already does my heart give some of the love our father once claimed, to you, my brother," she said with a sweet smile beaming through her fast falling tears of joy.

The chieftains had courteously retired to some distance, so as not to restrain the indulgence of Arslan Gherrei's feelings of happiness; but they gazed with deep interest, as the once stern and gloomy champion of their country melted into softness, as he looked on his newly-found gallant son.

The Hadji also was delighted. "I knew, my friend," he cried, "that none but a noble father could have owned a son brave as my young friend, Selem Gherrei. Say, warriors, are they not worthy of each other?"

"Yes, yes! may Allah grant a long and prosperous life to our gallant champion, Arslan Gherrei, and to his brave son, the young Selem," was shouted by the assembled warriors. "Long live Selem Gherrei!" was echoed through the grove, as they advanced in gallant and martial array, each grasping Selem's hand as they passed him and his proud and happy father; nor could they refrain from giving an admiring but respectful glance at the fair Ina, as she stood clinging to her newly-found brother's arm.

Then arose the song of a wandering minstrel, who, attracted by the fast flying news of the storming of the fort, had repaired hither to commemorate the victory with his muse; and here was a theme well worthy of his martial strains. First tuning his lyre he broke forth into a loud triumphant hymn of victory; then, changing his theme, he described the fierce attack of the Russians, when the noble chief Arslan Gherrei was deprived of his wife and son; then it sunk into a low strain of grief, worked into rage against the ravishers. He next enumerated the many bloody combats in which the chief had fought to revenge himself on his foes, the coming of the youthful stranger, his fighting by his father's side and rescuing him and his sister from the enemy. Finally, as he pictured their surprise and joy at meeting, his notes were melting and pathetic, till, by degrees swelling high to triumphant strains of joy, he was joined by numerous other minstrels of scarcely less note, who had followed him to the scene.

A band of maidens then, taking the word from the bard, advanced, and surrounding the group with their wreaths of flowers, joining their sweet, rich voices to the melody as the cadence rose and fell with the subject.

Then the bard changed his theme to the rescue of the Polish stranger; and as he sang, all eyes were turned towards Thaddeus; and as Ina caught his gaze drinking in with enraptured delight the beauty of her form and features, she cast her look on the ground, blushing she knew not why; while he, the brave soldier, seemed seized with the same bashful feeling.

The bard had ceased his strains when a party of musicians struck up light and cheerful airs, and some of the youthful mountaineers, in spite of the fatigue of the fight and march, led forth the village maidens, nothing loath, to the dance; the nobles looked on to applaud, until messengers arrived from the house of the Tocav to say that a banquet was prepared to welcome the warriors.

Our hero, whom we must in future designate by his true name of Selem Gherrei, now took the hand of Thaddeus. "My sweet sister," he said, "I will lose no time in making known to you one, who has been my friend under various circumstances, and will, I trust, always continue so."

"My brother's friend is welcome to me," she answered in Turkish, a language Thaddeus was also slightly acquainted with. "But I cannot perform the courtesies you have been accustomed to in Frangistan. I have but few words to express my feelings in the tongue in which I now speak."

"Think not so meanly of yourself, Ina," said Selem. "My friend is one of those noble Poles, whose country you have doubtless heard the Russians have treated as they would ours; and yet he hesitates to draw his sword against such foes. But I must leave him to your soft persuasions to supply him with excuses for joining us."

"I fear that I could scarce disobey your wishes, sweet lady," said Thaddeus; "then pray do not bid me act against my conscience."

"I would not do as you fear," answered Ina. "But among the sons of the Atteghei the claims of friendship are paramount to every other. Surely you would not quit my brother's side in the battle-field. His foes should be your foes, and his friends your friends."

"Cease, lady, cease," exclaimed Thaddeus earnestly; "or you will gain too quick a victory. The sweet tones of your voice alone are too eloquent to be withstood."

"Silence, my friend," interrupted Selem, in Russian smiling. "You bring, indeed, the courtly style of St. Petersburg with you, when you commence by paying compliments. I must assert a brother's privilege to stop such language, or you may turn my gentle sister's head. Remember that she is unaccustomed to phrases of flattery."

"Her looks bespeak her to be far too sensible to be influenced by terms of compliment," answered Thaddeus.

"There breathes no woman of any clime, and but few of the nobler sex even, who are uninfluenced by flattery," returned Selem. Then speaking again in his own language, "Pardon me, my sister, for speaking in a language you understand not. I was but scolding my friend for paying the empty compliments which the fair ones of the cities of Frangistan receive as of sterling value."

"Your friend, my brother, would not surely use phrases unbecoming a mountain girl to hear. He looks too wise, too good," said Ina, blushing as she spoke.

Another messenger now approached to summon the hero of the day, the young Circassian Chief, and his Polish friend, to the feast, where the other chieftains were waiting their arrival. Great however was the disappointment of both, when they found that the chief ornaments would be wanting; for though the most chivalrous devotion is paid to the fair sex, such is the custom of the country, that no woman may be present at the festive board, except on private occasions when in attendance on their lords.

Most unwillingly, therefore, Selem was obliged to part from his newly-found beautiful sister, and many an enraptured glance did the young Pole cast towards her as she retired with her women and the daughters of the host; while the two friends followed the gallant chief, Arslan Gherrei (his heart beating with happiness at the restoration of his son), as he led the way to the scene of festivity.

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END OF VOLUME TWO.

Volume 3, Chapter I.

A romantic and chivalrous scene was presented to the eye, as a cavalcade of warriors wound their way along the richly clad mountains of Ghelendjik.

The fresh dews of the night still moistened the green herbage; the crystal drops sprinkling the grass, shone in the early sun-beams like the precious diamonds of Golconda; while the air which played round their heads, came laden with the fragrance of the mountain herbs and sweet scented flowers. The pure and elastic atmosphere seemed to sparkle with life and light: all nature, rejoicing in the bright new-born day, breathed an air of contentment and happiness; how sadly belied by the scenes of devastation and misery the country was doomed to suffer!

The chiefs were clad in rich and polished armour; their spear-points and swords glittering in the sun-beams, and their gay banners fluttering in the breeze. At their head, on his noble black charger, rode Arslan Gherrei and the gallant Hadji Guz Beg, followed by many chiefs of note and consequence. In the centre came Ina, more fresh and lovely than the bright morn itself, followed by her damsels, and tended with the utmost care; on one side, by her brother Selem, who guided her palfrey over the uneven ground, while Thaddeus guarded her on the other, as she listened earnestly to the description of his own loved land, comparing it to the one in which he now was destined to live. Every now and then she would turn her eyes from her brother, stealing a glance at him, which was as quickly withdrawn.

Young Alp Beg, and other gallant youths, dressed in their gayest attire, on high mettled steeds, curvetted in every direction, in hopes of catching a glance from her bright eyes, or of hearing the sweet tones of her voice. Close to them followed the young page Conrin, and, though rejoicing in his master's happiness, every now and then a deep shade of melancholy would steal across his features; nor would he, on these occasions, listen to the words of consolation which Javis vainly endeavoured to offer. The squires of the knights, their pages, and other attendants followed, bringing up the cortege.

As they rode on, they were shrouded by the thick autumnal-tinted foliage of the lofty trees; and the mountain's side, covered with flowering heaths, when trampled on by their horses' hoofs, gave out a sweet odour. In the vale below, flowed a blue sparkling stream, between rich pastures, bounded by sloping banks; while on the opposite side, rose jagged and fantastic cliffs, and in the extreme distance, a sea of azure-tinted and swelling hills.

Messengers had arrived on the previous evening from the warriors already encamped on the banks of the Ubin, a rapid stream falling into the Kouban; summoning the chiefs from all parts of Circassia to meet them there without delay. Some grand object was in contemplation, either to attack the Russians before they should retire into their winter quarters, or to prevent them in their turn from making any inroad among their own mountain-homes. The Hadji was all fire and eagerness to set forward, in the hopes of some engagement taking place; in which, under his guidance, his darling son might gain victorious laurels, he looked on the storming of the fort as an action of no note to try his mettle. Arslan Gherrei had also determined to proceed onward to the same destination, leaving Ina--who was now fully able to undertake the journey--with the family of a noble kinsman, the Chief of the Demorghoi, the venerable Prince Aitek Tcherei.

Their host, Shamiz Bey, with most of the warlike inhabitants of the neighbourhood, was compelled to remain to guard that part of the country threatened by the garrison of Ghelendjik, it being considered a point of honour for every district to protect itself against the foe, except from an overwhelming force.

A large body of horsemen were, however, collected, many chiefs having come to greet the renowned Hadji on his return from his pilgrimage, to congratulate Arslan Gherrei on the recovery of his long lost son, and to welcome Selem to his native land.

Their journey was like a triumphant procession. From every hamlet through which they passed, the inhabitants rushed out to congratulate the warriors on their victory; the fame of their exploit having already preceded them. The villagers made their admiring comments, not less on the dignified and noble Arslan Gherrei and his son, than on his lovely daughter; and the stranger Pole was hailed as another champion added to their country's cause. The minstrels struck their harps to strains of triumph, joined by the voices of the maidens. The wild youths, galloping on before, fired off salvos from their rifles, which were answered by others from the hamlets discharging theirs in return, as they threw themselves on their ready-saddled steeds, and flew to join the festive cortege. The green banks, sloping down from the villages, were covered with old men, women, and children, joining their voices to the general shout which welcomed the party, wherever they appeared. The Hadji's name sounding above all.

Sometimes the cavalcade would halt to salute some aged chieftain, unable longer to join in the hardships of war, who had caused himself to be carried out to meet them, and to hear from their own mouths, an account of their late exploit. The eye of the now decrepit warrior would kindle, and his cheek burn with enthusiasm, as he listened to the tale; or his voice would tremble, and a tear of regret roll down his furrowed cheek, that he was no longer capable of participating in the glories and dangers of war. So often had they to stop, and so many questions had they to answer, that it was late in the day before they could reach their resting-place for the night; and happy was the chief, whom they had chosen as their Tocav, to receive such distinguished guests.

Their route on the next day's journey, lay along the base of the far-extended line of the black mountains; when towering high above his brethren, appeared the lofty Elborous, dark, rugged, and precipitous. The cavalcade traversed a savage glen, overhung by beetling cliffs, seeming ready to fall on their heads. The light was subdued and gloomy; and the air was moist and heavy from the water which trickled down over the moss-covered rocks. An oppressive feeling overcame all the party--a foreboding of coming evil. Dangers in unknown shapes seemed to threaten them. Even the Hadji's joyful tone was quelled; a chill fell on his spirits. He cast a fond and anxious glance at his son Alp, as, for a moment, the dangers to which he was about to expose him, crossed his mind.

"Why are you so silent, my sister?" said Selem, as he rode by Ina's side; "why does that shade of sadness steal over a face, but now so bright with smiles?"

"I scarce know, Selem, why I am sad," returned the fair girl; "but I thought of the dangers our noble father is constantly exposed to; that you, my newly found brother, may again be torn from me; that you must live a life of constant hardship and warfare. I thought of the miseries of our country--our homes and fields burned, our fathers and brothers slain, and that Allah should have created men wicked enough to do these things. Tell me, my brother, why do the Urus attack our country? why do they try to possess themselves of our humble cots and rocky mountains, when they have abundance of land covered with mighty cities?"

"The lust of power, of conquest, such as you can have no conception of," replied Selem. "They care little to possess our mountain-homes, and nothing for the noble hearts, whose blood they spill. What, to their deaf ears, are the cries of the orphan, the moans of the bereaved widow? There are rich and fair lands beyond our's, in which they would set their grasp, could they reach them, to add to their already vast territories, peopled by slaves. But they fear to advance, leaving behind them one spot of unconquered ground, such as our own land, lest we might impede them on their return home, laden with booty. We are like a castle in a plain, overrun with marauders, which, as long as provisions last, may withstand a host of such foes; so shall we, as long as true and brave hearts beat in Circassia. But now, Ina, banish such sad thoughts; see, we have gained a bright and joyous scene."

As Selem spoke, they emerged from the dark ravine, into a broad and extensive valley; so broad, indeed, as almost to be called a plain. It was surrounded by mountains, rising gradually in slopes or bosomy swells, to form the sides of the vast amphitheatre. Green pastures and corn fields, interspersed with clumps of fine trees, enriched its surface, which was further adorned by cottages, surrounded by orchards, farm-yards, paddocks, and granaries.

"See, Ina," exclaimed her brother, enthusiastically; "let not your spirits sink with forebodings, for we have passed in safety through that savage glen: and now what a lovely scene has opened to our view! So may it be with our country. We yet may see bright and glorious days shine on Circassia, when freed from the dark wing of the Russian eagle."

The country through which they were passing, had the appearance of a magnificent park, or the estate of some rich noble of Frangistan; the fields were separated by high well clipped hedge-rows, and irrigated by canals filled from a stream, meandering through the centre. The hill sides were covered with flocks of sheep; and fine cattle fed in the fertile pastures.

Leaving the valley, the cavalcade mounted the sides of one of the hills, by which it is entirely encompassed, traversing the summit of a narrow ridge, looking down on each side into a deep ravine. Wherever the eye could reach, appeared a country impracticable to any foes, when guarded by even a handful of brave inhabitants.

The cavalcade did not keep in the same order as described in the commencement of the journey; sometimes, the chieftain Arslan Gherrei would ride to his daughter's side, and address words of affection and encouragement to her; then he would enter into converse with his son, on subjects of deep interest and importance. But there was one who never left Ina's side. Each moment that Thaddeus passed in her company, he became more and more enchained, without being conscious of it.

As the mighty Elborous appeared in view, with numerous other wild and rugged mountains at its base, "Know you," said the Hadji to Selem, "that the brother of that traitor Besin Kaloret Khan has his dwelling among yonder rugged mountains, though they prove not so wild and barren, as at this distance they appear? He is rich in flocks, herds and noble horses, and many fierce followers are at his beck. I think he will prove a dire foe to you and your's, if he discovers that his traitor brother fell by your hand; or worse still, by that of your youthful page. But, Mashallah! fear him not. He knows himself in the wrong, and will dread to take vengeance."

Ina turned pale, as she heard this account. "Does, indeed, that dreadful Khan dwell so near us?" said she. "I always feared to look on him: he seems so fierce, so cruel, so unlike our father or you. Oh, avoid him, for his presence can bring nothing but harm."

"Fear him not, fear him not, maiden," exclaimed the Hadji. "What harm can he do? His followers cannot compete with us. Till he washes out the stain of his brother's dishonour in the blood of our foes, he cannot again appear in the company of the chiefs of Abasia."

"I fear not for myself," answered Ina; "but I fear him for the evil he may work to my father and brother: I know that to meet him in open fight they would have nought to dread; but he is subtle as well as fierce, and may seek secret means to injure them."

"Do not let such thoughts alarm you for our father or for me, dear Ina," said her brother. "The Khan could not harm us, if he wished."

"Mashallah! if he were as cunning as the fox," exclaimed the Hadji, "we would rout him out of his den, should he attempt any revenge for that young traitor's just punishment."

The travellers were now approaching the residence of the venerable Prince Aitek Tcherei, the kinsman of Arslan Gherrei, with whom Ina was to remain during his and her brother's absence. The whole party, also, were invited to sojourn there that day, ere they proceeded to the camp of the allied princes and chiefs on the Ubin.

The party were descending a hill bounding another beautiful and romantic vale, on the side of which stood the residence of the aged chief, and had just arrived in sight of a grove of lofty trees surrounding the house, when being perceived from the watch-tower in the neighbourhood, a band of gaily caparisoned youths on horseback, galloped out to meet the chiefs, uttering loud shouts of welcome, and firing off their rifles and pistols as they came on at full speed. Halting at the moment they arrived abreast of the leaders of the party, they respectfully saluted them, exchanging greetings with their younger friends as they passed, and then joined the rear of the cortege.

Along avenue of fine trees led up to the gate of the house, where the aged Prince, clothed in a long robe and turban, (the garb of peace), was standing to receive them, attended by his squire, armed more for state than protection, and by his dependants and household serfs, who hastened to take the horses of the chieftains, as they dismounted.

Folding Arslan Gherrei in his arms, "My noble kinsman," he said, "welcome are you to my home, for gladly do my old eyes once more look on you; and how did my heart beat with joy when I heard that you had recovered your long lost son. Allah is great, who has shielded him from so many perils in the land of the Giaour, to restore him once more to your bosom. Is yonder noble youth he? Worthy he seems to be a Circassian chief. Let me embrace him," he added, as Selem, dismounting from his horse, advanced towards the old man.

"Come hither, my son, and let your father's oldest friend embrace you. Ah! I see in his eye and bearing that he is worthy of you, Uzden. And your other child? your daughter? Come hither, Ina; let my old eyes gaze on thee, too. My own Zara will rejoice to see you. Go to her, Ina; she longs to embrace you, but she fears to quit her anderoon before so many strangers. Ah! my gallant friend, Hadji Guz Beg! rejoiced am I to see the Lion of the Atteghei returned from his pilgrimage, to spread terror among the hearts of the Urus. And you, Achmet Beg, and you, Alp, who will one day be a hero like your father; and you, chieftains, welcome all."

Thus he addressed them, as each chief advanced to pay his respects to the old man. "My heart," exclaimed he, "has not beat so joyfully since the cursed Urus slew the last prop of my age, my only son. Chieftains, I have ordered a banquet to be prepared to do honour to your coming, and it will soon be the hour for feasting."

Saying which, the venerable noble led the way to a grove of lofty trees in the neighbourhood of the house, under which a fresh green arbour had been erected by his retainers, forming a grateful shade from the yet burning rays of the sun. Divans and carpets had been spread under the leafy bower, the front of which opened on a gentle slope, falling to, a green plot of turf, surrounded by groups of trees. Thither the chiefs were ushered, and when all were seated, according to their rank, their venerable host took his place among them.

Many of the neighbouring nobles had assembled to do honour to the guests of their chief, their numerous attendants forming groups with the villagers and retainers of the host collected before the arbour. The Dehli Khans, or young men, amusing themselves in the mean time, in various athletic sports.

Troops of servants soon appeared hastening to the arbour, bearing tables laden with various dishes of richly dressed meats and fruits, which might well vie in taste with the sumptuous fare of less primitive countries. Bowls of mead and boza were handed round to the guests; for even those professing the Mahomedan faith did not hesitate to drink of the former delicious beverage, nor were spirits and wine wanting, to add to the conviviality of those whose scruples did not prevent their indulging in them.

Minstrels, also, came from far and near to add to the festivity of the occasion; for what feast would be complete without the masters of song? The aged Hassein Shahin, the famed bard of the Atteghei, he who sang of a hundred fights, which he had himself witnessed, and in some of which he had been engaged, now turned his lyre to a high and martial strain. All voices were silent, every ear intent to catch his words which were as follows:

From Liberty's harp are the strains you now hear;
Men of Atteghei rise at the call;
Hark! hark! to its sounds, for the foemen are near,
It summons us warriors all
To fight for the land of our ancestors' graves,
Who died that their children might never be slaves.

The Russ marches onward with chains in his hand,
To bind our free arms will he try.
His banner's dark eagle o'ershadows our land,
But we've sworn or to conquer or die,
For we fight o'er the sod of our ancestors' graves,
Whose valiant hearts ne'er would have yielded to slaves.

'Tis Poland's enslaver with foul bloody hand,
Remember her story of woe!
Her brave sons are captives, or fled their lov'd land,
Beware, or her fate we may know!
Let us swear on the earth of our forefathers' graves,
That we ne'er will be conquered or yield to those slaves.

Remember we fight for our mountains so green,
For our vales, for our streams' sparkling tide,
For those fields which our father's for ages have been,
And where, ever unconquer'd, they died.
Then let not their bones be disturbed in their graves,
By the tread of a Muscovite army of slaves.

See the glorious banner of freedom unfurl'd.
It waves o'er our lov'd native land.
Muster round it, and valiantly prove to the world,
That _alone_ we are able to stand.
As our fathers who lie in their warrior graves,
Fighting died, that their children might never be slaves.

Then curs'd be the traitors who yield to the foe,
And curs'd be the cowards who fly!
May they ne'er while they live, peace or happiness know,
And hated, and scorn'd, may they die!
In lands far away may they rot in their graves,
And their children bear ever the foul mark of slaves!

Now sharpen our spears, well prove each tough bow,
And the swords of our forefathers wield.
Don the armour so often they wore 'gainst the foe,
Seize each rifle and glittering shield,
And their shadows yet hovering over their graves,
Will guard us from foes who would make us their slaves.

Then to arms, then to arms, and this harp shall proclaim
The proud deeds that your valour has done;
And the world shall resound with the praise of your name,
To be handed from sire to son;
And tell of the heroes who lie in their graves,
Who died that the Atteghei ne'er should be slaves.

The warriors grasped their swords, their eyes kindled, their breasts heaved at the minstrel's tones, the effect was such as would be difficult to understand from the above meagre translation, without the accompaniment of the bard's rich and animated voice, and the high loud tones of his instrument.

Several other baras succeeded, taking various themes for their song. When describing the heroic deeds of their warriors, their tones were lofty and inspiring. When singing of their untimely deaths, cut off by the foe, their voices would sink to a low and plaintive wail. When picturing the beauty of some maiden more lovely still than her companions, the air would be soft, sweet, and melting.

When the banquet was concluded, the gallant Hadji and his brother, Achmet Beg, rose to depart, for their home was at no great distance, and the Hadji's wife was anxiously expecting the return of her lord, though the old warrior dreamed not of giving himself a day's rest, but had engaged to be ready on the following morning, to accompany the other chiefs to the banks of the Ubin.

When search was made for young Alp, he was nowhere to be found, for he had early stolen from the feast.

"Your gallant son has been a constant visitor here, of late," said the venerable host to the Hadji. "The youth loves to listen to my tales of our wars with the Urus. He will follow closely in your steps, noble Hadji, and I love him much. I know not if it is so; but I sometimes think he casts an eye of affection towards my Zara; and if it please you, my friend, he may have her."

"It is no time for the youth to take to himself a wife, when his thoughts ought to be alone of war," answered the Hadji; "but Mashallah! he would be happy to possess so sweet a partner."

The aged chieftain's suspicion was correct, for Alp was at last discovered, coming from the direction of the anderoon; and he set off with his father to their home.

The next morning a large band of warriors, amounting almost to a small army, assembled in the valley, prepared to set off for the camp on the Ubin. Headed by the aged chief, they repaired to a sacred grove in the neighbourhood, in which stood an ancient stone cross, a relic of the former religion of the country, round which the chieftains and their followers knelt, while supplications were addressed to the One all-powerful being, to aid their arms in driving the Urus from their country. Each warrior bore a chaplet in his hand, which he hung up as a votive offering to the Divinity--a heathen custom handed down from the remotest times.

This ceremony being performed, the chiefs mounted their war-steeds, and commenced their journey; the aged chief raising his hands towards Heaven, bestowing blessings on them as they passed.

Selem had much difficulty in compelling young Conrin to remain behind; but at last he succeeded in drawing a reluctant promise from the boy that he would not quit the valley without permission, but would remain as the page of Ina, and obey her behests. He did not attempt to persuade Thaddeus to accompany him, and the young Pole had found attractions, stronger even than those of friendship, to detain him in the valley. It would also have been against the usual custom to allow one, who had so lately quitted the enemy, to appear in arms on the side of the patriots; a degree of suspicion existing among the chiefs against all strangers, until their fidelity to the cause had been proved. He therefore remained, with Karl as his attendant--a life the honest serf seemed wonderfully to enjoy.

Volume 3, Chapter II.

Deep was the grief of Ina when she saw her beloved father and brother depart for the scene of conflict, nor could her heart refrain from sad forebodings when she thought of the dangers to which they must be exposed. Too often had she been witness to the misery and heart-rending wailing of her countrywomen, when anxiously expecting a father, a husband, or a brother, as they met in lieu the mangled remains of the loved one brought home on a bloody bier by his comrades. Such grief she herself had never known; but she felt too clearly that horrors like those might be in store, too, for her; nor could the fierce blast of war, which raged round the land, steel her heart.

Zara did all in her power to tranquillise and cheer her friend under her affliction; but too well could she also enter into and share her fears, for she had seen her gallant father brought home stiff and cold on his shield, slaughtered by the foe in repelling an inroad into his country. That father was the last prop of her grandsire's declining years; and hopelessly for him had the old man mourned, for he had now no warrior descendant to succeed to his name and possessions, and none to guard his child from danger. At his death the disposal of Zara in marriage would devolve on the eldest of his tribe, and they would not inquire if her heart could be given with her person. Her destiny, therefore, might be a cruel one. A new chief would be chosen to lead the clan to battle, and, in peace, to preside at their councils, and poor Zara might be neglected.

Such was the fair girl's account of herself; and thus the two friends, by pouring their griefs into each other's bosom, found mutual consolation. She confessed, indeed, that there was one whom she hoped might win her, and whom she thought loved her; but he had no wealth, and as yet had little renown in arms. Yet she whispered to her friend's ear, that she fondly loved the gallant young Alp, though she had enjoyed but few opportunities of meeting him.

The aged Prince, Aitek Tcherei, having warmly embraced the tenets of Mahomet, the two maidens were more strictly secluded than Ina had been accustomed to; the old Ana, or nurse, who presided over the domestic arrangements of the anderoon, keeping a constant and vigilant watch upon them. Though the custom of the country would not allow of their being limited to the same strict seclusion as in a Turkish harem, the nurse was, nevertheless, horrified at the idea of Ina's appealing in public without her face being entirely shrouded by a thick veil, nor did she at all approve of her propensity to ramble through the groves, or amid the shadowy cliffs.

The old Kahija's ideas of female happiness did not extend beyond the acquisition of a new veil or robe, or, more than all, the enjoyment of a gossip. What pleasure could the girls find in scrambling over the dirty mountains and damp grass? or why should they dance or sing, except to please their lords and masters, when other persons are paid to dance and sing to them?

Her parents had sold her, when young and promising great beauty, to a Turkish slave-merchant; and it was with unalloyed pleasure, in anticipation of the novelty and magnificence of the great Stamboul, that she leaped on board the vessel which was to convey her from her friends and country. At first she herself felt the irksomeness of constraint; but soon became reconciled to her self-chosen lot, and learned to approve of all the regulations of the harem to which she was consigned. Her notions, therefore, on her return, at the death of her master, to her own country, were much scandalised at the freedom and what she considered the levity of her young countrywomen; and she loved to expatiate on the superior manners and customs of the fair captives in the seclusions of Stamboul. Like other dames, who find that their charms can no longer captivate, her temper at times became rather cross and crabbed, though she always tried to treat her young motherless charge with kindness.

Such was the old Ana, Kahija, who, wrapped in her feridji, now entered the anderoon to interrupt with her gossip the conversation of the two maidens. She delighted in gossiping--what old nurse does not? particularly a Turkish one. She now came out of breath, with her exertion of walking from a neighbouring cottage, to say with great eagerness, that the chief shepherd had just come in from the distant mountains, where he had seen the dark mountain khan, Khoros Kaloret, whose brother had turned traitor, and been killed by the young chief Selem, galloping by with a long train of savage followers, who were riding furiously in the direction of the Ubin.

"Oh, Allah, grant that he meet not my father or Selem there!" exclaimed Ina, in accents of terror.

"I know not what may happen, child," said the old nurse. "They say he is a fierce chief. I hear, too, that he sought your hand. Mashallah! but you might have been proud to wed so rich a Khan; and yet, Bosh! what is he even to a merchant of Stamboul?"

"Why could you not love him?" asked Zara; "they say he is of gallant appearance."

"Ah, Zara! love him? you know not what love is, to ask such a question. Love him! No! I could only fear him, he looks so stern and fierce; so unlike the calm and grave features of my father," said Ina.

"What is all this stuff the girls are talking about love?" chimed in the old nurse. "Bosh! what nonsense is this? Love! What is love? it is nothing; it is worse than nothing; it is folly--it is Bosh! What should maidens know about love? Let them be married, and then it is time to love their lords and masters."

Ina and Zara were in despair; for it was hopeless to carry on any interesting conversation on their own feelings, with the constant observations and interruptions of old Kahija; who could be very entertaining at times, when she had the whole of the conversation to herself, with her wonderful stories about Turkey and Stamboul. They were relieved, however, from the dulness their constrained silence threw over them, by the entrance of Conrin, with a small packet from his master to Ina.